


Proverbs 18:21

by cilliance



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Asexuality Spectrum, Conversations, Drunken Kissing, Exploration, First Kiss, I don't write stuff like this often, Kissing, M/M, highkey rusty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 17:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19177765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cilliance/pseuds/cilliance
Summary: The tongue has the power of life and death,and those who love it will eat its fruit.





	Proverbs 18:21

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale get drunk and maybe kiss a little.  
> As much as I love the idea of a sexy slutty demon man tempting his angel, I always deeply headcanon otherworldly beings as being asexual, so in this fic, they are both ace.  
> I hardly write anything above a general audience rating, so forgive me if this is very clumsy writing

Crowley sat in Aziraphale’s bookshop, twirling his finger around the rim of an empty wine glass. He grabbed the wine bottle and poured out whatever was left into the glass.

“You know,” Aziraphale said, “after everything, I don’t know what I was so worried about. We are all helpless victims of fate, I suppose, so our worrying and meddling would _also_ have been just another part of the Divine Plan, and--"

The angel was on the opposite side of the room, organizing his collection of books and moving them to their respective shelves. He was just as drunk as Crowley was, and Crowley found that he was the type to become far too talkative when drunk.

“In the end, there is no such thing as free will, so quite literally everything we do is down to what God decides… I think.”

“You’re thinking _too much,_ ” Crowley chipped in.

Aziraphale stopped what he was doing and turned around. “I am?”

“We just stopped Armageddon. So can you please just… relax a bit?” Crowley finished off his drink.

“Well, I- I suppose.”

Crowley stood and sauntered over to where Aziraphale was standing. He placed his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders heavily as though prompting him to sit, but there was nowhere to do that.

“You need to relax a bit, I think,” Crowley told him.

“Yes, you just said that.”

“Did I?” Crowley’s eyes were glassy. Aziraphale wondered how out of it he truly was.

“I think,” Crowley began, “That I’d like to kiss you.”

 _Very_ out of it, then. But then, so was Aziraphale.

“Well kiss me, then,” Aziraphale asked.

So Crowley did.

Crowley grabbed the sides of Aziraphale’s face and brought him close so that they were centimeters away from one another. He paused there for a few seconds, and Aziraphale felt the heat emanating from the demon and could feel his breath across his cheek. For Crowley, Aziraphale’s skin felt hot to the touch.

He waited a moment longer, gave his angel a quick but firm kiss on the lips, then pulled back. He kissed him again, and once more after that, then again and again so Aziraphale would know Crowley’s taste by heart and crave it always. Crowley decided to go in further, and his tongue parted Aziraphale’s shaking lips. Their nerves were on fire.

They both could smell and taste the wine on the other’s tongue. There was wine, and old books, and that new cologne Aziraphale’s barber suggested. It was the most wonderful smell one could imagine. Crowley wanted to breathe him, lick him, eat him, drink him. He wanted him closer and closer still. Aziraphale brought a hand up to Crowley’s chest, lightly tapping as a signal to slow down.

Crowley pulled back. “If you want to stop, tell me now.”

“No further than this, please,” Aziraphale said, “B-but it’s good. This is good.”

Crowley licked his lips, then went back in to give his angel one last, small kiss before fully pulling away and going back to where he sat.

“You’re right,” Crowley said. “Nothing further.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean--”

“I know you didn’t,” Crowley grinned. “I just said you’re right, is all.”  

Aziraphale nervously sat down across from Crowley.”I don’t want you to think that I didn’t like it. But, no ethereal being ever really does that, more or less go _further--_ save for a few exceptions, of course, but... I’m not one of them.”

“Occult beings aren’t interested in that kind of thing, either,” Crowley cut in, “Also save for a few exceptions.”

“So… you’re alright?”

Crowley laughed. “Of course I’m alright, angel.  Are you?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Good.”

“Yes, good.”

Crowley smiled at him. “Care for another glass one wine?”

“ _Please_.”

**Author's Note:**

> The "exceptions" of course being the Nephilim and whatever a half-demon is called. Devil child.  
> I was very sleeby when I wrote this.


End file.
